


To See in Front of You

by TheMemeDreamBrigade



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Time Skip, Relationships will be added, Suicidal Thoughts, characters will be added, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMemeDreamBrigade/pseuds/TheMemeDreamBrigade
Summary: Following another close battle, Marianne reflects on the role she's chosen to play, and the possible consequences of remaining a player. Takes place after Chapter 15 of Verdant Wind
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Even if it still meant risking the lives of her friends, as long as she was careful, she could make her life worth the price of bearing the Crest of the Beast. It was more than she could have ever asked for, and frankly much more than she thought she deserved."

Gray cots were lined across both sides of the medical ward. The plush beds that had originally belonged to the monastery, its linens new and mattresses resewn, were reserved for critical patients needing overnight care, but everyone in the army knew supplies were short. It felt tactless to try and stay the night at all.

Besides cramp, the ward was also bare. All its priceless paintings and ornaments, along with its medical supplies, had been looted long before the Golden Deer retook Garreg Mach. The only decor remaining were the red theatre drapes that Manuela had donated, which bled against the gray brick walls and were used to block out the light from those needing urgent care. What passed for decorations now consisted of gifts given to patients from loved ones, friends and comrades. Some letters and deserts, but mostly carnations and bouquets, all picked fresh from the greenhouse, with new ones arriving every day.

Having finished another check-up, Marianne surveyed her remaining patients. At the beginning of the month, the ward had almost surpassed its capacity following the battle at the Valley of Torment. It was now half empty a week into the Lone Moon, and its silence hung stiffly over the warm spring air, broken occasionally by the creaks of bodies shifting on mats and the clack of Manuela’s heels. With the new provisions and troops provided by Judith, Claude’s ambitions to stop the empire felt more possible than ever. But with greater odds came greater risks, and Marianne thought of how the coming months would only continue to bring them more wounded, more dead, until a soft knock on the door brought her back to reality.

“Now a bad time?” asked Leonie, leaning against the doorway, her tunic drenched in sweat from what was likely a recent sparring session. 

“Not at all. Have you been hurt?”

Leonie waved the question aside. “Not really. Just a little dinger on my shoulder that needs fixing up.”

_“That looks like more than just a dinger,”_ Marianne thought, motioning her to an empty cot, noticing how tightly she held her arm to her chest. Leonie said nothing, but couldn’t help hissing through her teeth as Marianne stretched her arm out. Closing her eyes, Marianne concentrated until a familiar sensation of light began pooling inside her. She centered the energy below her chest and guided it up through her arms until pouring it out and around Leonie’s bicep. 

Slowly the tremors in Leonie’s arm began to subside. Marianne lifted her hands and watched Leonie rotate her shoulder a few times before flexing and patting her arm in satisfaction.

“Alright! Back in business,” Leonie said with a reckless smirk, “Thanks for the help, Marianne.”

Marianne bowed her head. “Of course.”

Swinging her legs to the side, Leonie sprang herself out of the cot. “No I mean it. Couldn’t imagine how much trouble we’d been in without you keeping us healthy.”

“Uh, right,” she replied dumbly, wringing her hands together. Marianne knew she wasn’t good at many things: accepting thanks was one of them. “Thank you again.” 

“‘Course.” Leonie was halfway out the door when she stopped. “Y’know, if you’re not too busy, I was planning on meeting Raphael and Ignatz at the dining hall if you’d care to join.”

“Uh, I appreciate the offer, but I still have some more patients to check on,” she replied hesitantly. That was only half-true. The only thing left to do was some routine monitoring, and Marianne hadn’t even left the ward since arriving for her day shift. She could easily excuse herself for an hour or so if she really wanted to. 

Leonie shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

Marianne watched Leonie saunter out the door, then sighed quietly. For years, this was the way things went: someone would invite her to hang out, and Marianne would panic and come up with an excuse not to. Not that she didn’t want to - it was just a matter of priorities. No amount of joy or fun together could be worth exposing her friends to the dangers of her crest, and if she ever came close to convincing herself otherwise, the thought of any of them dying to her curse was enough to remind her why she always played it safe.

Still, it never made those rejections easy. A dinner with friends sounded very nice, delightful even. Marianne knew she should be spending more time with them. She wanted to be less awkward, to learn how to let go of her fear and enjoy such good company, people who cared about her despite all her shortcomings, but such was the curse she was born with. It wasn’t their fault for not knowing, nor was it their responsibility. She’d just go in at night once the dining hall had emptied, just like she did during her days at the academy. 

“You know, you’re free to take a break if you’d like, dear.” Maneula’s voice cut through the silence, snapping Marianne out of her thoughts. She stood solemnly over a man swathed in bandages in the corner of the room and was pouring a ladle half-filled with water into his mouth.

“Things have slowed down enough for the day. I can handle the rest.”

“No please, allow me to help,” Marianne said somewhat desperately. 

Manuela frowned. “Are you sure? You’ve already done more than enough for today.” 

“Yes,” Marianne replied firmly, her brow furrowing. “Thank you for your concern, but I am certain I want to keep helping.”

Manuela looked to say something, but only sighed, dipping the ladle back into the bucket beside her. “Very well.”

The next hours were spent in silence as the two made their way across the room, monitoring and healing the injured as needed. Soon they lost themselves to the monotony of work and hours began to pass. After a particularly long healing session, Marianne sat back on one of the many empty cots for a break. Golden streams of light had started filtering through the corners of the red curtains. No new patients had come in, and most of whom they treated today would be able to make it to tomorrow. She allowed herself a speck of pride for that. 

In the five years following the fall of Garreg Mach, Marianne had come to accept many things. She had always understood her crest was an abomination to the goddess, and that it forced a wedge between her and the people she cared for that would likely never be overcome. But more importantly, she’d come to realize that as a student, she had used her crest as an excuse for cowardice. She’d turned away from the love and concern of her friends and stared only at the Goddess instead, looking for an easy way out. That she’d been so selfish made her furious with herself, and after five years, that frustration had transformed into a fierce resolve.

Now she was here, and for how many days she had left, Marianne vowed to try and give back all the strength she’d for years taken from others, and as twisted as it may have seemed, the war that consumed Fodlan had brought with it a strange security - Marianne knew that, at least for now, she was worth more to her friends alive than dead. Although she would always be a risk to those closest to her, she could still save more lives than she endangered, and lend her aid to end the suffering inflicted by the Imperial Army.

Even if it still meant risking the lives of her friends, as long as she was careful, she could make her life worth the price of bearing the Crest of the Beast. It was more than she could have ever asked for, and frankly much more than she thought she deserved.

… 

Marianne stood alone before the altar of the grand cathedral. The sun had set well before she and Manuela had been relieved for the night, and after sneaking into the dinning hall and briskly eating her supper in the dark, Marianne had spent the rest of her night praying. The moon shone through the crumbled debris of the upper western wall, illuminating half of the sanctuary in a dusty veil, and Marianne consciously placed herself as far from the moonlight as possible. Even in the hollow grounds of the cathedral, she could never be too careless. 

At such a late hour, even the most anxious and devout followers had already retired, and only the currents of wind howling above the exposed nave accompanied her. So the sound of the antechamber door opening was enough to break her attention. 

“Apologies. I had no intention of disrupting you.” 

She recognized Seteth’s voice before turning to face him. Though her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she could only make out his silhouette facing her, patient and severe, like one of the statues of the four saints. 

“That’s alright,” Marianne spoke, her words echoing uncomfortably across the cathedral’s walls. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Not at all,” Seteth said, “Actually, it’s come to my attention that you have spent much of your time since your return either working in the infirmary or praying here. I’ve also heard that, due to these obligations, you’ve remained rather hesitant to enjoy the company of your friends.” 

Hearing this, Marianne’s heart felt like it dropped an inch. 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she apologized, bowing deeply. It was never her intention to have people notice that she was gone, and the thought of causing her friends distress made her stomach feel heavy. 

Seteth held up his hand. “I am not here to pass judgement, only to raise a humble concern. It is a noble thing to serve the Goddess in the midst of war. In fact, the piety you’ve exhibited since your enrollment here has been nothing short of exemplary. I’d even go so far as to say that some of your more, indolent, colleagues could learn a thing or two” Seteth added, somewhat playfully.

“Thank you," Marianne said, bowing again. "But I’m afraid my faith in the past was mostly a selfish one.” 

“Is that so?” Seteth asked dubiously. “May I ask why you think that?”

Marianne turned to face what little of the altar she could find beyond the foremost pile of rubble. “For years, I used my faith only as a means of running away. I wanted to return to the Goddess, and leave the burdens of my life behind.”

“I see,” Seteth replied slowly, though Marianne thought she heard a rare note of discomfort in his voice. “My apologies for bringing up such dark sentiments.”

Marianne’s eyes widened slightly as she realized the gravity of what she’d just shared. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She was surprised at the ease with which she admitted her past. She had only told Byleth about her former intentions a month ago, yet with every week seeming like their last, the thought of death had become second nature. Her past self now felt so long ago.

“No, I am honored that you would confide with me such things,” Seteth said sternly, having regained his composure. “I sincerely hope things have gotten better for you.”

“Yes. Things are different now,” Marianne said, fixing her gaze back onto the altar. “Now I have the chance to repay all the strength my friends have given me. If it weren’t for them, I would have never been able to make it this far.”

Seteth said nothing, but instead examined Marianne, before humming pensively to himself.

“Is something wrong?” Marianne asked. 

Seteth shook his head. “My apologies, once again. It is rather late. You simply reminded me of someone just now. However, on the risk of further infringement upon courtesy, may I offer you some advice?”

“Of course.”

Seteth turned to face the altar as well, his expression somehow even more serious. “There are some people in this world whom I would also give my life to protect. But lately I’ve come to realize that perhaps my fixation on guarding them has left me ignorant to what’s best for them. I must learn to see them as an equal, otherwise, I am merely stoking my own misguided fears.”

Marianne paused. She’d never considered what the responsibilities of the archbishop must be like, or the kind of burden Seteth must be carrying. Come to think of it, she’d never truly thought about anyone’s burdens, only her own.

Seteth saw her puzzled expression and sighed. “It truly is rather late, and here I find myself venting to you my own shortcomings. Forgive me.” 

“Not at all,” Marianne said, his words continuing to cycle through her head. She felt as though she was on the cusp of a million revelations at once. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be careless, making sure to never bring people harm. But, perhaps that was only a product of my fear as well.” 

“I do not know the full context of your situation, and as such it’s beyond my capacity to give sound advice,” Seteth said somewhat officiously. Marianne understood that Edmund had either told him about the nature of her Crest or forbade him from revealing it. In any case, that he still honored her secret after all these years meant more to her than he realized. “However, as someone who has been pushed away by their friends before, I assure you that there’s little I wouldn’t do to have them still by my side again, now that those bonds have faded away.”

“To tell the truth, I’m not used to having friends,” Marianne said quietly. “I fear that I may not know how to reciprocate their kindness.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. It only requires that you offer them your time and attention, which you seem to be doing rather well just now.”

Marianne let out an anxious laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“In any case, I’ve kept you long enough,” Seteth said with a tired sigh, his poised stature crumpling slightly.

“I should probably retire soon as well.” A war meeting between The Deer was scheduled for early morning tomorrow. It wouldn’t make much sense for her to stay up too late. “Thank you for your wisdom, Seteth.”

“Thank you for listening,” Seteth smiled wearily, before turning back toward the antechamber.

… 

Marianne glided across the empty courtyard back to her room, her mind still racing. _“All this time, I’ve been so preoccupied with myself. Have I really failed to see my friends as anything more than victims?”_ she thought to herself, hurrying faster across the school grounds. _“After all they’ve done to help me. Had I truly never considered all the pain they must be carrying? The pain that me leaving this world would have brought them?"_ She felt tears beginning to well in her eyes as she reached the dormitory steps, but also a familiar pang of anger clawing within her and with it, a renewed determination. 

_“It’s not enough just to survive,”_ she thought, her hands reflexively clinching into fists. _“I have to find a way to support them too. I’m not exactly sure how, but I refuse to let my crest ruin the bonds between us any longer.”_

Marianne slowed down once she reached the 2nd floor of the dorms. Through the colonnades, she saw the bright moon hanging above the courtyard, white and pitiless, and tentatively straightened her arm out into the pale light. She never knew for certain, but sometimes, on bright nights like these, she thought she could feel her body reacting to the moonlight, something dormant and hungry, rumbling just below the surface. No matter what declarations she made to herself, she could still never be careless.

“Goddess protect me”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer prepare for their next battle; Marianne comes to a new revelation.

“So let me get this straight — You want my father to join the Alliance not _only_ by faking an invasion from the north, but by _actually_ invading his territory from the east in order to secure The Great Bridge?” 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Claude replied with a grin. Marianne watched Lorenz sink into his seat as the rest of the war council ruminated the gravity of Claude’s plan.

Multiple tea sets and breakfast platters had been laid across the tables of the Cardinal’s room for their first meeting of the day. Though at least an hour or so had already passed, Marianne could hear a familiar chorus of birds just outside and figured it must have still been early morning. Beside her, Hilda yawned and stretched her arms up like a freshly roused cat. 

“Count Gloucester doesn’t appreciate the Empire’s presence anymore than the rest of us,” Claude explained. “With the empire’s leverage gone, it would only make sense for him to switch sides.” A murmur of assent ran tentatively through the council, allies and friends nodding to each other in approval. Although their circumstances remained less than ideal, the victory from last week had given the room a renewed spark of hope, like the wind was finally at their backs.

“It’s a sound strategy, even if it’s a bit of a gambit,” Lysithea said, her serious tone belied by the array of breakfast sweets she’d cached around her. “Besides, we can never expect to go on the offensive against the Empire until all the Alliance territories have united.”

“But even with the element of surprise, many consider The Great Bridge of Myrddin to be impenetrable,” Ignatz said, fiddling with the feather of his pen. “I doubt whoever’s stationed to defend it will be interested in hearing terms of surrender.”

“Hey no plan’s perfect,” Leonie said with a shrug. “If you see an opening in your opponent, you gotta take it.”

“We can’t expect any of this to be easy.” Dorothea spoke quietly from the corner of the room. Accompanied by Linhartd and Bernedetta, the three of them had been the only original members of the Black Eagles that had defected since the beginning of the war. “Any chance to negotiate with Edie passed a long time ago.”

“One way or another, this war can only end at the cost of others.” Marianne said aloud. She had spoken mostly to herself, picturing all the miserable soldiers she’d tended to in the ward, and the hundreds of nameless bodies that littered the field after each battle.  
Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she noticed that the whole room had turned to face her. A familiar sensation of panic began to bubble inside her, but biting her tongue, she willed her nervousness to stay below the surface before continuing. “The sooner we can end the war, the less people will have to die before it ends.” 

“Well _I_ think it’s a great strategy,” Hilda said, still stretching her arms. Marianne sighed a breath of relief, grateful to have everyone’s attention shifted away from her. “Of course, the real trick is keeping our plans a secret. If Count Gloucester finds out our true intentions beforehand, we’ll be routed in a heartbeat.” As she said this, her eyes fell somewhat conspicuously onto Lorenz, who suddenly rose from his seat.

“How dare you!” Lorenz snapped, his voice somewhat shaky. “Just because I am the son of Count Gloucester does not mean I owe him my loyalty.” 

“Of course not, Lorenz,” Claude said calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re your own man, not your father’s son. I know you’ll do whatever’s best for the Alliance.” 

Lorenz’ expression softened. “Claude…” he whispered. Much of the room seemed taken by surprise - no one had ever seen Lorenz look so vulnerable before. That is, before he quickly glanced around the room and coughed into his fist. 

“Please excuse my outburst everyone, such behavior was most unbecoming,” Lorenz said, his familiar priggishness undermined by the small blush on his face. From the corner of her eyes, Marianne noticed what seemed like a flicker of a grin flash across Hilda’s lips. 

“Hey don’t even worry about it,” Raphael said, his normal speaking voice somehow much louder than everyone else’s. “Even with all the fresh food in the dining hall, this war’s been taking a toll on everybody.” 

“Raphael’s right,” Claude said. “In addition to preparations for our next battle, we have to maintain a high morale. Make sure we’re all taking care ourselves, and the person next to you.”

“Well you heard the man,” Hilda said, turning to Lysithea. “We have to keep our spirits high, that means sharing some of your sweets.”

“For your information, I require a considerable amount of sugar to stay functional in the morning,” spat Lysithea. 

“C’mon, not even for old times’ sake?” Hilda pouted before she quickly reached over and snatched a lemon cream puff from Lysithea’s stash of sweets. One of Lysithea’s eyes began to twitch as Hilda bit into the pastry.

“I was saving that one,” Lysithea said, her voice dripping with malice. 

“Would you like the rest?” Hilda asked, offering her the other half. Marianne could hear Lorenz’ audibly flinch at Hilda's lack of etiquette and couldn’t help letting out a small laugh. _Even though five years have passed, none of us have really changed._

“Back to the topic at hand,” Claude interrupted. “This meeting can’t continue until we come to a unanimous course of action. So does anyone else have any objections?”

Lorenz sighed. “As outlandish as this strategy may seem, I can’t think of anything else that could be as potentially effective as what’ve you’ve suggested.” The rest of the Golden Deer nodded and spoke in agreement.

“Then it’s settled,” declared Claude. “Teach and I will begin prepping battle plans starting today. As for the rest of you, try to relax but stay ready. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

… 

“Thanks again for inviting me,” Marianne said, lowering her cup back in its saucer. Hilda sat across from her at the wooden table, the sun shining behind her. It’d turned into a beautiful day, so they decided to have their tea in the courtyard north of the reception hall, as opposed to Hilda’s room again. 

“Well, of course,” Hilda cooed. “Everything’s been so busy — feels like there’s never a chance to just relax anymore. Now that more of the merchants have returned, things almost feel like they’re back to normal. Well, almost."

Marianne followed Hilda’s line of sight to a small squadron of soldiers walking out from the reception hall. 

“It’s hard not to think about the battles that have yet to come,” Marianne remarked. 

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Hilda said. “Holst has been sending me letters practically every day, asking how I’ve been, complaining about all the infighting between the nobles, lectures on how to prepare for battle.”

Hilda rolled her eyes as Marianne nodded and poured herself more tea. Though her friend was a bit of a rambler, she was grateful for how well she carried their conversations. Not that she couldn’t speak if she wanted to, but the fact that she never felt obligated to talk just for speaking sake made her feel at ease. Ever since the academy, being with Hilda always made the act of being there a little easier.

“Still, as annoying as he can be, can’t help but worry about him,” Hilda continued. “He must be constantly stressed out, being a general and all. Why anyone would want that type of responsibility is beyond me. Just look at Lorenz. Pretty sure he was this close to throwing a tantrum this morning.”

“He certainly seemed distressed,” Marianne mused, picking up her tea cup. “I can only imagine how hard he must be on himself due to his father’s expectations.”

Hilda shrugged. “He’d probably learn to relax a little once he takes out that giant stick up his ass.”

Marianne spewed the tea in her mouth back into her cup. She hastily put the cup back on its saucer, alternating between laughing and coughing.

“ _Hilda_ ,” she said reprovingly. 

Hilda smiled above her cup with a catlike grin. “Am I wrong? He should count himself lucky Claude’s still willing to lean on him as he does.”

Once she had managed to stop coughing, Marianne looked down and saw all the tea she’d spilled on her hands and across the table. 

“Oh goodness. I’m sorry.” 

Taking her napkin, Hilda leaned over the table and started to lightly pat Marianne’s face. “I swear Mari, after all these years, you can still be such a mess,” Hilda said affectionately. 

“I know,” Marianne murmured, dipping her head. _Even after all this time, she’s still having to clean up after me._

“Here, give me your hand,” Hilda said. Taking Marianne’s hand into her own, she took out another napkin and started drying it.

Watching Hilda gently dab the tea from her hand, Marianne felt a sudden but familiar wave of darkness wash over her — it was the same sensation of guilt that had haunted her during the academy. _Why is she always so nice to me? All I ever do is bring her down. A friend like Hilda deserves better than someone like me. It’d be best if I ju-_

Marianne forced her eyes shut and took a deep breath. _Stop it. Thinking like that will only make things worse. You’re done being a burden on others, remember?_ With another deep breath, Marianne opened her eyes. _Even if I don’t understand why, even if I don’t deserve her kindness, telling her that would only bring her down. The least I can do now is try to support her too._

“Hilda…” 

“Hmm?” Hilda looked up at her. Marianne paused, unsure how to put everything she was thinking into words. 

“Thank you,” she heard herself say. “After all that’s happened, I’m really glad I get to keep seeing you again.”

Hilda smiled. Marianne could tell it was different from the one she used to get out of work, where her eyes seemed empty and her lips went ear to ear like a doll. This smile was relaxed, and the eyes looking back at her were easy and kind.

“Me too,” Hilda said softly. “It’s about the only good thing to come out of this stupid war.”

Marianne smiled, until she felt a warm, pressing sensation from her right side. Her gaze shifted to the now wadded up napkin on the table. At some point, Hilda had dropped it entirely and had started listlessly playing with her right hand.

“I can’t believe that in all the time we spent at the academy, I never once got to do your nails.” Hilda said, squeezing and lightly pulling at her fingers. “You should totally come over for a makeover sometime. I could do your nails, brush your hair, wouldn’t that be nice?”

Marianne simply nodded, her throat suddenly dry. _Had Hilda’s hands always been so calloused?_ She took a deep breath as Hilda thumb grazed her knuckles, not realizing she’d been holding it this whole time. 

“I’m sorry, am I making you comfortable?” Hilda asked. 

“N-no,” Marianne stammered. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks as Hilda flipped her hand over and started idly tracing patterns on her palm. _This is dangerous. Hilda has no idea the risk my presence puts her in. But how could I tell her that without revealing the truth?_

“Is it about your crest thingy?” Hilda asked.

Marianne froze, her body tensed like a fawn ready to flee. “H-how’d you know about that?”

Hilda shrugged. “Word gets around. Claude overheard Linhardt talking about it with Hanneman the other day.” Using her thumbs, Hilda began to thoroughly press and massage the palm of her hand. Marianne’s breath hitched, and Hilda’s lips seemed to curl into a faint smile.

Marianne felt like her head was spinning. So many things were happening at once. She’d spent countless nights thinking about the day she might tell her friends the true nature of her crest, how they would react, the consequences it would bring. Never once did she consider the fact that they might already know. 

“I-I just, I’m afraid you might be, I could be putting you all at risk.”

Hilda hummed to herself. “Well you’ve been healing us for a while now, right? Nothing’s bad happened so far, aside from the obvious. But I wouldn’t say that was your fault.”

“I-I guess,” Marianne said, watching Hilda trade her right hand for her left and, despite the possible danger, finding herself unwilling to stop her.

“Tell you what, it’ll be a little experiment,” Hilda said. “Only I get to play with your hands, and overtime we’ll be able to see if I get cursed or not. And I promise if I start sprouting horns or growing toads out of my toes, you’ll be the first to know.”

Marianne laughed at her choice of words. Ignoring the nervous churning in her stomach, she tried thinking about the situation logically. It’s true that the nature of her crest had never been fully understood, that much she’d discussed with professor Hanneman, but that only meant it was better to err on the side of caution. Still, Hilda’s proposal did make sense, and she didn’t seem to be burdened by touching her. _As long as we’re careful, it couldn’t be too bad, right?_

“Okay. Deal.”

“Perfect,” Hilda smiled, finally dropping her hand to pour Marianne another cup. Marianne sighed in relief, her hands still tingling from Hilda’s treatment. She’d never experienced anything so intense before, and she sat there amazed and slightly frightened at how nice it'd felt.

… 

The pale light of dawn had begun to creep across the sky as Marianne gently brushed Dorte’s mane. Weeks had passed and before anyone had time to realize it, they were scheduled to march out to the Great Bridge of Myrddin that morning.

Marianne had already greeted and fed every horse in the stable, a bucket of fresh apples and carrots beside her. The horses may have been trained for war, but she still considered it important to pamper them now and then. Of course, that never stopped her from spoiling her favorite.

“Today’s the big day Dorte, are you nervous?” Marianne asked as she combed his mane. Dorte let out a small snort and flicked his head.

“I can’t believe Hilda knew about my crest this whole time, which means the others must know about it by now too.” Marianne mused. “Though I suppose for today that’s not important.”

Pausing the thought, Marianne looked down and spotted Dorte surreptitiously lowering his head to steal another carrot, and quickly pulled the bucket out of reach. “Thought you could pull a fast one of me, huh?” Marianne scolded playfully. 

Dorte puffed a ball of air onto Marianne’s face, much to her amusement.

“You little stinker,” Marianne laughed, stroking his forelock. The day of battle had finally arrived, and she had awoken for it focused and ready. Whether she lived or died didn’t matter - she knew she had taken the right path.

“To be able to fight alongside such amazing friends, seems like the Goddess really does have some use for me after all,” Marianne said. Dorte nickered softly and lowered his head onto Marianne’s shoulder. Smiling, she leaned her head against his. “Whatever this cursed life is worth, we’ll be sure to make the most of it.” 

With one last small hug, Marianne left Dorte and returned her brush to the bucket hanging by a hook near the stable entrance. She made her way to the hand pump to refill the water trough, when something strange caught the corner of her eye. In the distance, Marianne watched a familiar pair of pink pig tales cross the Monastery and down the steps toward the cemetery. 

_Hilda?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this newest chapter! This one took a bit longer than expected: I plan to have future chapters completed on a monthly basis. Once again, thanks so much for reading and best of luck in 2021!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another successful battle, Marianne goes an unexpected journey during her morning chores.

Although it was difficult to describe any battle as ideal, the siege of The Great Bridge of Myrddin had gone mercifully well. They’d easily overcome Acheron and his reinforcements and, after defeating general Ladislava, even managed to capture Ferdinand as a prisoner of war, which Marianne figured was no small part due to the presence of his former classmates. 

Now, for the first time in five years, the Alliance territories were finally unified under Claude’s leadership. Everyone knew the war was far from over, but with the empire now on the defensive, the tense air that had been hanging above Garreg Mach felt momentarily lifted, enough so that when Marianne saw Hilda in the stables so early in the morning, she found herself smiling wider than she probably had in years. 

“Hello, Hilda. What brings you here so early?” Marianne watched Hilda’s expression brighten as she bounced toward her and felt a strange but pleasant lightness fill her chest.

“Well, I was just about to make a supply run when I had the best idea: why don’t I go see my best friend Marianne and see if we could go to the market together?” Hilda asked, playfully rocking on the balls of her feet. 

Marianne’s brow furrowed at the thought. “Are you sure? I don’t think someone like me would be much help.” Truthfully, she hadn’t even visited the market since they’d returned to the monastery. The idea alone of going to such a public place made her hands sweaty.

“Which is why it’s the perfect chance for us to go together,” Hilda beamed. “After all, what better way to work on your nerves than by working together?”

Marianne shook her head, her brow tightening. “Hilda, I couldn’t ask that of you. Besides, who would take care of the stables when I’m gone?”

Hilda twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. “Oh, I’m sure we could find _someone_ who could cover for you.” 

As if on cue, Marianne heard the distinct sound of shifting chains and metal growing louder as a pair of knights rounded the corner. Upon seeing them, the taller of the two immediately stood at attention, with his companion hastily following suit. “Ms. Edmund. Ms. Gonreil. How do the two of you fair this morning?” 

Hilda started raking her fingers through her hair. “Well, poor Marianne has always been so frightened out in public, so I thought we might be able to go to the market and work on it together.” Her eyes forlorn, Hilda stuck her outer lip out in a pout that Marianne thought could make even Lysithea blush. “Unfortunately, she’s stuck having to tend the stables and can’t accompany me.”

“That’s okay!” The voice of the smaller knight squeaked out of his helmet, and though his visor concealed his expression, Marianne could detect a nervousness in his voice that started to make her nervous as well. “If it’s for Miss Marianne’s sake, I’d be happy to be of service.”

Panicked, Marianne waved her hands in front of her. “Oh no. Please, you don’t have to burden yourself with-”

“Nonsense,” the taller knight stated matter-of-factly. “If it’s for the sake of your betterment, it would be our pleasure to assist you and your friend.”

Hilda placed a hand over her chest and fluttered her lashes. “Thank you both so much.” Without missing a beat, Hilda took Marianne’s hand and began leading her to the armory before she had a chance to say anything else. Once they were out of earshot, Hilda leaned her head in next to Marianne’s.

“I always knew you would be good at persuading people, miss Marianne.” Hilda sang the last part of her name with a toothy grin, and Marianne struggled to fight the smile tugging at her lips, caught between wanting to stay as remorseful as possible and being secretly thrilled to have been Hilda’s accomplice. 

“Are you sure this is okay,” Marianne asked, looking back. “You don’t think they mind doing our work for us?”

“Hey, you’re just giving them what they asked for, right? No need to worry.” Standing in front of the doorway to the armory, Hilda turned to face her friend. “So, now with that all out of the way, would you like to go to the market with me?”

… 

Marianne trailed closely behind Hilda, her hands clasped in front of her, while her friend all but skipped to the marketplace, despite hauling a wagon full of weapons and medicine almost as big as herself.

“I’m so glad that this ended up working out,” Hilda said cheerily, as if she hadn’t planned this out from the start. “Once this is out of the way, we’ll have the whole day to ourselves. Chores are always so much easier with friends, anyway.”

“That is true,” Marianne said quietly. She tried her best to mask her nervousness but couldn’t quell the sense of dread welling inside her as they entered the market square. Noises were coming from all sides, from the clangor of the blacksmith’s hammers to the chit-chat of shoppers. For years, she’d wanted to overcome her social anxiety, but she never thought that being in such a public space would make her so painfully aware of herself. It was like coming face to face with her own existence, one she had spent years trying to conceal.

“Are you nervous?” Hilda looked at her with knowing sympathy. Marianne knew she had mentioned wanting to work on her anxiety with Hilda before, and now here her friend stood, trying to find a way to help her overcome her nervousness without leaving her side. _To go to all this trouble just for my sake, yet I still keep letting her down._

“I’m sorry...” Marianne muttered, her head bowed slightly in shame. 

“I promise you’ll do great,” Hilda said, letting go of the wagon handle. “It’s a lot easier than you think. Watch.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Hilda mosied over toward the herbalist’s tent. Behind the counter was an older, portly man with faded black hair that curved into sideburns who, upon seeing Hilda, greeted her with open arms. Marianne watched in wonderment as her friend effortlessly struck a conversation with the vendor. She laughed, cajoled and gossiped with him as if they were old friends, but it was with an air of showmanship that Marianne recognized: it was the same face Hilda always wore whenever she wanted something from someone. 

Not that the vendor didn’t seem to be enjoying himself. It wasn’t difficult to notice that the salesman seemed to be gazing at her friend longer than what propriety would dictate. She started to squeeze the skin between her hands as a curious sense of displeasure enveloped her. Marianne considered the feeling strange: she knew Hilda must have performed this song and dance several times before and that it was silly to take issue with something that clearly didn’t bother her. However, something about the shamelessness with which the salesman stared at her friend continued to vex her, even as she returned with a pile of concoctions in her arms.

“See? Easy as pie.” Hilda said as she unceremoniously dumped the bottles she’d bought into the wagon. “Managed to get a discount too, as always.”

“He certainly seemed eager to please,” Marianne grumbled, her voice unusually caustic even to her own ears. 

Hilda ran her fingers through her hair, flipping it over her shoulder. “I know right? Probably why he’s willing to sell me all that medicine for half the price.”

Marianne’s eyes widened. “Half the price? Are you serious?”

“Why else do you think I’m always assigned supply runs,” Hilda asked, her smile more impish than ever.

Marianne giggled softly in her hand, in awe of her friend’s confidence. “Your persuasive talents truly are a class of their own.”

“Hey, gotta make use of this big ol’ bust somehow, right?” With a wink, Hilda lifted up the front of her corset, giving Marianne a clear view of her chest. 

Marianne could feel the blood rushing to her face as she quickly averted her eyes. “Uh, I-I suppose so,” she stammered. 

Hilda let out an affectionate laugh. “Sorry, sorry: I know I shouldn’t mess with you like that. You just look so cute when you blush.” Taking a hold of Marianne’s hands, she lifted them up across from her. “So, are you ready to try?”

“Oh, right.” Marianne blinked. She’d almost completely forgotten she was still in the marketplace, though the thought didn’t seem quite as intimidating with Hilda in front of her.

“Look, in all seriousness, if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine, really,” Hilda said. “I’m the one who signed you up for all this anyway, kind of forced your hand.”

Marianne closed her eyes and gave out a small sigh. “N-no, It’s okay,” she said, squeezing her friend’s hands. “I-I should do this. I want to do this.” 

She felt Hilda squeeze back. “You’ll be perfect,” she said, lightly brushing her thumb across the top of her right hand. “Trust me.” 

Marianne opened her eyes. Though the circumstances could not have been more different, the way Hilda stared back at her reminded her of the faces they’d shared before battle — it was a look of complete faith. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Marianne realized how ridiculous her fears really were. After all, they had faced death together on the battlefield and survived. This couldn’t be any worse. Not with Hilda on her side.

“Okay,” Marianne said, tentatively dropping her friend’s hands.

With an encouraging smile, Hilda pointed to a blonde, somewhat gruff looking woman across the market. “Go to talk to the blacksmith, she’s super nice.” 

Marianne bent down to take the wagon’s handle. She took one last look at Hilda, trying to take in as much of her confidence as she could before turning toward the blacksmith’s stall. She dragged herself across the square and was about ten yards away when the woman noticed her.

“Hey there,” the blacksmith called out casually.

Marianne’s feet froze. Forcing a dry gulp down her throat, she closed the distance between them. “H-hello. I’m here to deliver some weapons for maintenance.”

“Sure thing. You’re with the Golden Deer, right? I recognized that girl behind you.” Marianne quickly glanced back to Hilda, who gave a big wave and a thumbs up. 

“Yes ma’am. We were assigned to give these weapons over for maintenance and repairs.”

The blacksmith nodded and immediately got to work, picking up and briefly surveying each instrument and organizing them into different weapon racks behind her. Marianne stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands for what seemed like the longest 30 seconds of her life.

“I-I’m sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” she muttered. “I’m not usually good with these kinds of things.”

“Not really.” The woman didn’t look up as she continued making quick work of the wagon. Once the last of the equipment had been stored, she patted her thick black gloves together with a satisfied huff.

“Alrighty then: I’ll have all this inspected by the end of the day,” she said. “If you or one of your friends wants to swing by tomorrow, I can give you a proper run through.”

“O-okay, so that’s it?” Marianne asked, her shoulders locked. 

“You’re all set,” the blacksmith said with a smile. “Easy, ain’t it?” 

Marianne blew out a nervous sigh, opening and closing her hands. “I guess so.” Though the world felt like it’d been teetering moments ago, now that it was over she could feel the tension leaving her body.

“So you two good friends?” The blacksmith nodded over to Hilda’s direction.

Marianne nodded, her lips smiling without even realizing it. “Yes. She brought me out here in order to help overcome my fear of communicating with others. Again, I apologize if my behavior caused you any discomfort.”

The blacksmith waved her hand, laughing lightly. “Not a problem at all. Must be nice having such a good companion by your side.” Marianne noticed a glint in her eyes, as if she was privy to some secret.

“Indeed she is.” In her mind, she made a quick prayer to the Goddess for her fortunes and a mental note to give more prayers of thanksgiving later. “Thank you very much for all your help,” Marianne said with a steep bow. 

The blacksmith let out another warm laugh. “Come back any time.”

After another quick bow, Marianne took the now unloaded wagon and hurried back to Hilda, pride swelling in her heart. By the time she finally reached her, she was almost jumping in excitement. 

“I can't believe I actually did it! Did you see that, Hilda?” A small voice in her head recognized how silly her excitement was for something so trivial, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It may have been the sense of accomplishment she felt, or the way Hilda's cheeks dimpled as she smiled at her or the sweet smell of her friend's floral perfume, but everything in the world at that moment just seemed perfect. 

“Awwww, you look so happy, Marianne! I need to bring you to the market more often.” Marianne noticed Hilda’s cheeks coloring slightly, and suddenly that same, pleasant lightness she’d felt earlier in her chest returned in full force. She began to wonder how she had ever lived without it. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Marianne said, meaning every word. 

Hilda scoffed dismissively. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who did all the work.”

Marianne’s smile lowered. The way Hilda dismissed herself made her feel as if she’d tasted something bitter. How could she not see all of her kindness and virtue as nothing less venerable than the Goddess herself? Without thinking, Marianne took Hilda’s hands into her own. “Even still, it’s such a blessing to have someone like you at my side. Thank you, Hilda. For everything.”

“Alright, alright… no need to make a big deal out of it,” Hilda said, pushing her gaze to the ground. Marianne could see a red flush on her cheeks and felt the lightness in her chest explode into an intense warmth. She wasn’t sure what to do next, so she opted to stand there, enjoying the pleasant firmness of Hilda’s hands wrapped around hers. 

“Uhh, I should probably go ahead and return this,” Hilda coughed, nodding to the now mostly emptied wagon cart. 

“Oh right, sorry” Marianne replied, dropping their hands. Her cheeks felt hot as well, and she wondered idly if they looked the same way Hilda’s did.

“I actually have to pick up a few more things now that I’m here,” Hilda said, glancing around the market. “How about I meet you in the dining hall when I’m done?”

Marianne nodded excitedly. “Okay. I’ll see you soon”

After waving one last goodbye, Marianne had to stop herself from skipping all the way to the dining hall. It felt like she was walking on air. She passed the pier perpendicular to the dinning hall and stopped to watch the sun rise over the still pond across the dock. 

Marianne bowed her head and gave another quick prayer to the Goddess, thanking her again for all she'd been given. She began wondering what other blessings the Goddess would grant her that day, when a strange thought came across her head - Marianne realized that for the first, she was starting to feel like she belonged in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the delay: these two scenes ended up being much longer than I expected and for the longest time they just felt sorta off, so hopefully now I’ve made it up to par. However, since I now have a much better grip on both my personal and work situation, I plan on continuing this series and updating it much more frequently, anywhere from two weeks to a month. I actually plan on staying on this month in the story for at least another chapter as there’s a lot more with these characters that I want to work with. As always, I hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to writing the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on possibly writing more chapters and exploring more characters and events through Marianne's perspective as the game's story progresses, so characters, relationships and warnings may be added/modified in the future. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


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